


I'm Waking Up (I Feel It In My Bones)

by iKain2



Series: I Don't Want To Be Your Super Hero No More [12]
Category: Vindictus
Genre: Abduction, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Superheroes/Superpowers, Angst, Canon-Typical Violence, Canonical Character Death, F/M, Hurk got Controlled Black Hammer'd, Hurk's Shitty Pick Up Lines Return, Hurt Eventual Comfort, I'm Probably Going To Ruin Gallagher's Life Again OK, M/M, Mind Control, Poor Captain Aodhan He's An Old Man Now, background/implied relationships - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-17
Updated: 2016-12-26
Packaged: 2018-08-09 09:41:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 6,447
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7796893
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iKain2/pseuds/iKain2
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>[Modern Superheroes AU, Part 13: Sequel] The three-year-long upheaval of the Royal Court and the restructuring of Rocheste's government provided more than enough time for the Fomorian Army to retreat, rebuild their forces, and then execute a series of calculated attacks at the humans.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> p lease he lp why do I keep continuing this series I thought I was doooooone welcome to season fucking 2
> 
> (This may take longer than usual to write, so I've refrained from waiting until I was actually done with the whole fic to post. Let's see how this goes.)

“Hey honeybee, you got a minute?” Hurk sauntered out of the bathroom, his tanned skin almost pink from his hot shower and his hair spiked up wildly. The towel around his hips looked just about ready to fall off.

“Yeah.” Dressed in just his boxers, Kai looked up from where he was sitting on their unmade bed and browsing reddit on his laptop.

“There's something wrong with my new phone.” With a smirk, Hurk picked up the phone from the top of the dresser and tossed it over in the direction of the bed.

Kai raised an eyebrow when the phone landed half a foot short from the bed but leaned over to pick it up anyways. “What is it?”

“It doesn't have your number.”

“Really.” Kai rolled his eyes as he swiped at the phone's screen and input the password ( _his birthday, what a surprise_ ).

“Just because we’re married doesn’t mean I _have_ to stop.” Hurk flopped onto the bed next to Kai, his lopsided smile positively radiant as he slid the laptop off his husband’s lap to set it off to the side.

“I was working.” Kai didn’t really bother to stop Hurk from scooting closer and wrapping his arms around him.

“You call trolling subreddits _‘work’_?”

“It requires time and research, so yes.” A warm nose dug into his neck, and Kai sighed as he was basically manhandled into a full-body hug. His face ended up being pressed up against Hurk’s chest.

“Boring. We’ve got…” Hurk paused in his nuzzling to glance at the LED alarm clock to his right. “Two hours before the brats need to be picked up from practice. I say we do something more exciting.”

Kai’s reply was muffled, but he did manage to wriggle his hands over to Hurk’s backside to squeeze out his agreement.

* * *

Kai had just finished polishing his violin when his phone rang, the cheery tone of some terrible pop song alerting him to the fact that it was Lynn.

“Hey.”

“Did you and Dad have to leave for a call or something? We’ve been waiting out here for an hour!” Even through the tinny speakers, Lynn’s upset was obvious. He could hear the faint sounds of Sylas repetitively kicking a soccer ball at a wall in the background.

“What? Hurk left an hour ago to pick you two up.” Kai set down his violin and pulled on his socks.

“Well, he’s not here. I tried calling him three times, but all I got was his voicemail.”

“Let me try to reach him, his new phone might be glitching out. I’ll be over in ten.”

“Okay then.” With that, Lynn cut the call.

Kai slipped on his casual sneakers and grabbed his keys. While walking to his car (his motorcycle having long since been traded in), he tried calling Hurk.

“ _Heya, you’ve reached Hurk’s voicemail. I can’t answer at the moment so just leave a message after the beep and I’ll be sure to call back as soon as possible!_ ”

With a frown, Kai cut the call before it could actually go to voicemail and then gunned the engine. His guts were telling him that something was wrong, but he couldn’t quite place what it was, exactly.

Fifteen minutes later, Lynn and Sylas were buckled up in the back seats. The teenaged girl, looking a bit sunburned, had her arms crossed over his chest as she looked out of the window with a pout. The grass-stained teenaged boy, on the other hand, had conked out the moment the car started moving.

“So where’s Dad?”

“I got his voicemail too.”

It wasn’t like Hurk to not take any of their calls or somehow forget to pick up the kids from soccer practice. There definitely wasn’t an emergency call-in from the CBDC either, as Kai would’ve heard of it first.

“Something’s not right.” Lynn’s eyes narrowed as she glared out of the window.

Kai said nothing as he pulled into the driveway of their house. The other car was still missing, so Hurk hadn’t returned at all…

His phone rang, this time the standard CBDC company ringtone. Kai answered it as he followed the two teenagers into the house and kicked the door shut behind him.

“Speaking.”

“I need you to come in right now.” Captain Aodhan’s voice sounded tense, as if he was withholding information.

“Yes, sir.” Kai held back a sigh as he opened the front door again. First Hurk was missing, and now he was being called in on his day off?

* * *

 

Feeling every part of his body going numb and his mind grinding to a halt, Kai blankly stared _not_ at the nightmarish crime scene ( _totally wrecked car, scattered broken glass, blood streaked in all directions_ ) in front of him, but at the matching, blood-crusted platinum wedding band he was holding in the palm of his hand.

“We can’t be sure that all of the… remains are human, or even fomor, until the lab results come back. That will take at least a week. At the moment, we don’t know anything about motives or the possible suspects. I have all of my contacts in the Royal Police working on this case.” A gloved hand landed on his shoulder. Kai’s gaze tore from the ring and over to Captain Aodhan, the older man looking as if he’d aged more than a decade in the past few years.

Kai’s hand curled over the ring tightly. The look in his eyes turned positively chilling.

“Effective immediately, I’m putting you and all of our active agents on lockdown at Headquarters. Your children, as well. Safety is paramount, and we don’t know if this was meant to be a one-time incident or a prelude to further attacks.”


	2. Chapter 2

How long had he been here?

Everything _**burned**_.

Every breath.

In.

Out.

**Wheeze.**

In.

Out.

“It is ready to undergo the ritual, Chief Priest.”

Glowing blue eyes—

“Maios, bring me my scythe.”

“Yes, Master!”

Fluttering black hoods—

“Meses, the emblem.”

“Here it is, Chief Priest!”

“It will be interesting to know if a berserker can survive this. It will become a useful asset, if true.”

The tip of something deadly sharp touched his exposed, paralyzed right eye.

Too much red.

Pain.

Screaming—

He was screaming, straining against too-tight restraints—

Blackness, ugly and foul, spread inwards and curled lovingly through his mind and body.

He _ **burned**_.

Memories shrank back as far away from the gnawing, hungry taint as possible, trying to hide in the deepest of depths.

_You sappy oaf, of course I love yo—_

_Dad, can we get this? Plea—_

_You’re too slow, gra—_

**Who?**

He stilled against his restraints, hardly breathing through the fire in his lungs.

Rotting teeth wrapped in dark shadows smiled down at him.

“Do you know your name?”

_H—_

“… **?”**

A ghostly chuckle.

“You are to replace our fallen warlord, at the side of our beloved Queen.”

“ **Queen?”**

“Our Queen weeps freely until we have avenged her son, who was mercilessly slain by the humans.”

“ **Humans.”** He snarled at the word. The blankness of his mind was comforting, in a way. The emblem in his right eye warmed happily, easing any of his pain, at the rage beginning to stir from within. Black smoke twisted and curled around him before settling into the form of chitinous plated armor that stopped just below his head.

“Yes, humans.” Alteron the Chief Priest gestured for his underlings to remove the restraints and then turned to the silent figure standing guard at the door. “Akanan, bring this good news to the Princess and Commander Ikrium. We will have our weapon soon.”

The figure wrapped from head to toe in bandages and cloth bowed respectfully and exited.

“Maios, the mask.”

The smaller shadow floated over to the Chief Priest with the grotesque muzzle in hand.

The mask clamped onto his face and wrapped around his head, keeping him from opening his mouth any more than a scant quarter of an inch.

“You _will_ serve us, Dark Knight.”

“ **Yes.”**

With his right eye visibly glowing crimson in the dim lighting, the Dark Knight bared his teeth in a grotesque parody of a smile.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i should be writing like 3 other papers but haha

With a well-worn prayer book in his gloved hands, Captain Aodhan stood at parade rest in his too-starched black suit, watching the somber congregation trickle away from the freshly-covered grave off in the distance. Drops of cold rain battered relentlessly against the extended awning of the chapel's side entrance, which didn't quite stop the man from being soaked to the bone. The nameless minister finished his mournful prayers through the dim haze of the torrential downpour, settling his wrinkled hands on the shaking shoulders of two teens. Aodhan sighed, a plume of his breath visible in the chilly air, and glanced humorlessly at his prayer book. He did not need to open it to know of the most recent name he just added to the long list of fallen family and friends.

The staggering number of funerals he had attended in the past few years left the man unfathomably weary and increasingly grey.

First, his close friend Ingkells – to incurable genetic disease that ate away at his liver and left the proud man an emaciated shadow of his former self by the time of his death. Silberin, the stubborn man's genteel partner of many years, followed not too soon after in his sleep from a heart attack.

Hardly a year later, Danaryn passed from lung cancer – the chemotherapy was too little, too _late_ , the doctors had said when they'd finally pried the frail body of his beloved wife away from him.

Not even a month after his wife's death, he lost Rudell and Yusey – his precious twins, of all people, _why_ _ **them**_? – to a Goddess-forsaken drunk driver while they had been walking home from school. A terrible accident, the coroner had mused from behind a clipboard. Despite being a war-honored veteran, he'd only been able to stomach a few seconds of looking at the mangled bodies of his baby-faced daughters before bolting straight for the restroom.

Then came poor Ellis, and after that long string of his men – his employees, his second _family_ – as the renewed ferocity behind the omnipresent fomorian attacks spilled too much human blood on the soil of his homeland.

Today marked the loss of another – not a Crimson Blade nor a Royal Police officer, but dear enough to many within his motley band of mercenaries.

“ _Thy dream of Erinn in wake of death, for in Her paradise the children of men shall be ever-eternal underneath the glory of Her black wings.”_ The sounds of expensive leather shoes tapping against the concrete and a waft of cigarette smoke signaled the arrival of solemn company.

“ _Worry not, as age nor illness shall befall any in Her paradise, and the land will be rich and bountiful: a just reward unto the faith of the loved we have lost._ ” Completing the verse, Captain Aodhan removed his polished cap out of courtesy and glanced at the sharply-dressed man that had stopped to stand next to him. “Have you become a devout since the last we've spoken, Governor von Leon?”

“That's the only verse I remember. Father Gilliam knocked it into my head enough times for it to stick.” With a frown, Gallagher swept back the wet tangle of his hair. He looked just as rain-soaked as the older man, despite the presence of the hulking figure of a suited security agent holding an umbrella a fair distance away. “And none of that _Governor von Leon_ shit. At the moment, I've got more respect for you, Captain, than any of the spider-brained sleaze bags in the High Court. None of them apparently believe that a funeral is a good enough reason to skip a meeting on the nitty-gritty details of export tariffs.”

“My condolences.” Aodhan watched as the last of the funeral attendees left the site. The old minister, accompanied by a dreadfully tiny altar boy holding an opened umbrella, hobbled slowly along the path back towards the entrance of the chapel.

After a moment of heavy silence, Gallagher spoke again, breathing out a steady plume of cigarette smoke. He dropped the cigarette and crushed the butt underneath the sole of his shoe. “He went to Kain's funeral, even though he barely knew 'im. I thought I'd pay my respects in return, but those fucking dipshits kept me behind for so long...”

“You're here now, and the dead have all the time in the world.” Aodhan sighed and set his cap back on his head. “I'm leaving for work, now. Have a good day, Governor.”

“Yeah, yeah, I've got my daily dose of old-man wisdom already. See you around, Captain.” Waving a dismissive hand over his shoulder, Gallagher snorted and made his way towards the new grave, uncaring of the rain drenching his clothes, while his security detail sprinted over with the umbrella open.

Shoving his prayer book into the pocket of his uniform's heavy coat, Captain Aodhan shook his head and made his way over to the chapel's parking lot. No matter what happened in life, a desktop piled with paperwork was always eager to greet him at the end of the day.


	4. Chapter 4

The Dark Knight shifted his blank gaze over to the mangled corpse – male, and looked as if his chest had been completely caved in – chained to a long, battered table. An assortment of wicked tools and colorful unmarked bottles cluttered the wooden work table to his right.

A few paces in front of the Dark Knight, the Princess and Commander Ikrium watched, silent in the face of progress. To his immediate left, the fully-bandaged fomor – Akanan the Sluice-Keeper – kept his hands steady on the handles of his deadly blade and rake, just for precaution.

“The feather!”

“Yes, mistress.”

A hooded male human gathered up a grimy glass container holding a glowing white-blue feather. It's brilliance from within the dirty jar was dazzling, and the Dark Knight took a step forward as if unconsciously drawn towards the light.

“Not closer!”

The growled warning had the Dark Knight stilling completely, shifting back a step. A scrape of rusted metal on metal – Akanan's blade and rake. Another warning.

Even with the elaborate mask on her face, Deathchief Kielu bared her jagged teeth at the Knight and wrenched the jar out of the human's grasp. With a piercing shriek, the ancient staff in her gnarled hands sparked with dark energy. The jar floated upwards, motionless in the air, before shattering completely – the feather's radiant glow grew until it was almost blinding.

A flash of beautifully pure energy, and Deathchief Kielu cackled.

A low breath of black smoke rattled out from the Dark Knight's ruined lungs. A tiny, forgotten voice beneath the roiling mass of darkness in its mind cried out in pure terror.

With a piss-curdling scream, the corpse on the table surged to life, straining against the chains as metallic shards of white and blue armor similar to the Dark Knight's formed over death-grayed skin. A crown of black feathers sprouted from the bird-like helmet that grew over the half-rotten skull, cutting the hoarse screams into pure silence as the pieces melded shut.

Another moment, and then the eye holes in the helmet glowed an electrifying blue.

Commander Ikrium bowed his head respectfully in deference to the Princess, and then stepped forward to sneer at the newly-arisen monstrosity. “Paladin. Do you know why we have returned you from the beyond?”

“… _N-o_... _o_...” A rattling exhale, and the clicking of what was likely many broken teeth gnashing against each other.

The Dark Knight twitched as a hazy memory of sunlight and faceless figures surrounding an upright stone filtered in through the fog in his mind, but it slipped away before he could latch on for very long.

“Your sole purpose is to return the Oracle to us. The Fomors have need of the human. Cichol's awakening is near, and the Queen shall not wait any longer for her revenge.”

Another clacking and hiss. A clawed hand scratched against wood grain of the table underneath.

“Good. Deathchief, the Queen desires more of these creatures.” Commander Ikrium turned his head to directly address Akanan. “We will expect results soon, Keeper. Keep the creatures close, as the humans must not discover our weapons.”

Akanan bowed, clenching a fist across his chest.

Her curiosity apparently sated, Princess Iset sauntered out of the room, Commander Ikrium following three measured steps behind.

As the Sluice-Keeper herded the Dark Knight and the Paladin out the room with the help of the fomorian emblem tied to his wrist, the hooded male human bowed his head in brief thought.

“Human! I need more corpses and ergs! Feathers! More creatures!” Deathchief Kielu screeched as she cleared the other tables in the room of the unusable corpses (all recently failed attempts) by setting them alight with her magic.

“Yes, mistress.” The hooded human bowed deeply and scurried out of the room, his nose wrinkled at the stench of burning human flesh.

Once sufficiently overlooked and hidden from any prying eyes inside one of the innumerable shadowy tunnels of the main fomorian headquarters, the hooded man summoned an ethereal cell phone with a wave of his hand. He dialed a number purely from memory.

One ring, and then the call was immediately picked up.

“Nyle, wher–”

“They've done it.”

“...Come again?”

Nyle's voice was no louder than a scant whisper. “The Dark Knight and the Paladin are coming.”

A wordless pause, and then Nyle was left with the ringing beep of a disconnected call. The cell phone dissipated into wisps of smoke, and the man glanced warily at the encroaching, flickering darkness of the tunnel leading back into the fomorian headquarters.

An inhuman screech echoed eerily from a distance as the hooded man gathered up his magic and disappeared from the tunnels with a crack of dark energy.

 

 

 


	5. Chapter 5

“…I see. Thank you for bringing this to my attention so quickly, Captain Gwynn.” Commander-Director Keaghan’s pale lips flattened into a hard line as he took in the new information.

“Are we sure we can trust her source? And how do we know exactly who the fomors are targeting?” Captain Aodhan, stiff-backed and with bags of exhaustion visible underneath his eyes, crossed his arms across his chest. The man’s brows furrowed deeply, his mind already running through all of the possible defensive scenarios he could think of.

“Commander, we still have the element of surprise. Perhaps—” Gwynn’s proposal was interrupted by a shrill chime of a cell phone.

“Ah. Excuse me, Captains.” Keaghan’s eyebrow raised when he realized that it came from his pocket. The man left his office with a brisk stride, and the thick oak door clicked shut behind him.

Immediately, Gwynn turned to Aodhan with a scowl. “My _verified_ source is not unfamiliar to you, Captain. We share mutual interests, after all.”

“I don’t suppose you’d be willing to share a name?” Aodhan shifted a shoulder, wincing minutely at the quiet pop that came from the joint.

“I trust **_them_** with information of this importance. That should be enough for you to report back to your nosy Governor.” With a scoff, Gwynn turned her gaze down to the single sheet of parchment paper in her hands. She would have to dispose of it, later.

“Now, when did I ever mention Governor von Leon?” A muscle at Aodhan’s jaw twitched.

“Don’t think I haven’t noticed the buffoon visiting your company every week after meetings. It’s a wonder that anything has been done when the man has the attention span of a goldfish.”

“No matter how you felt of him before, he is your Governor _now_. Show him some respect, Captain Gwynn.” The leather of Aodhan’s gloves creaked from how hard he was gripping at his arms. The continuing tic at his jaw spoke volumes of carefully-controlled restraint.

“He may be the Governor of Rocheste, Captain Aodhan, but I certainly did not vote for him.” Gwynn snorted, breaking her cool and calm composure for a brief moment.

The door to the Commander-Director’s office opened again, this time slamming against the wall from the force behind the swing. Keaghan stormed inside, the expression on his face anything but pleasant.

Both Aodhan and Gwynn straightened and stood at attention.

“Tieve fell into a coma while working. She’s currently being rushed to the general hospital. Captain Gwynn, I need you to immediately assign a detail to her. Captain Aodhan, I expect you to begin preparations against what we can expect to be the worst fomorian invasion in recent history.”

Both Captains saluted in sync and rushed out of the office, their earlier dispute all but pushed out of sight and out of mind. Once the door shut behind them, Keaghan slumped into his office chair and ran a shaking hand through his hair.

After a moment, the man sighed and reached for his landline. “The High Council will want to know of this… Goddess, grant me strength.”

* * *

“Oh, hiya Lann! What kinda kitchen accident are you here for this time?” A dark-haired female nurse with pretty eyes smiled at the man when he rushed in through the ER doors and skidded to a stop in front of the reception desk.

“Hey Seanna, I need a little favor.” Lann wheezed from how hard he’d been running. Almost as if suddenly materializing right behind him, Fiona gave the nurse her most intense blank-faced stare.

“I, well, it depends on… what kind of favor…?” Seanna swallowed, her mouth suddenly dry, but kept up her friendly smile.

The doors to the ER slid open again, admitting a motley group of people consisting of two men, another woman, and two teenagers.

“A woman must’ve arrived earlier. She’d collapsed at her workplace and had to be rushed here no more than an hour ago. Her name’s Tieve, and she’s our friend. We’d like to see if she’s alright.” Lann’s fingers tapped impatiently at his thigh, as if he could not control the nervous energy running through him like a live wire.

“I might be able to do something…” Seanna’s manicured nails clacked against the keyboard a few times. “Do you have her last name?”

“Uh… Tarasque. I think. That’s her husband’s last name, though. I don’t know if she really changed—”

“Seems like she’s… up in the protected ward. I don’t know if I can let you inside without proper clearance.”

“I have the Commander-Director on speed dial. **_What_** is the room number.” A shadow fell over Seanna’s hands. The woman glanced up and balked at the intimidating glare coming from a serious-faced man that looked as if he could kill her and dump her body into the sea without thinking twice.

After a brief moment, Seanna squeaked, “Ward 3, Room 17.”

Without wasting another moment, the man and the two teens (that followed after him like ducklings) stalked off towards the elevators.

Lann coughed awkwardly and scratched at the back of his neck. “Uh, sorry for… erm…”

“It’s no problem, just go before I get into more trouble.” Seanna shrank back and kept her eyes firmly glued onto the screen of her computer’s monitor.

Even long after the group left, Seanna could still feel the stone-faced woman’s unyielding stare burning holes into her forehead.

“Hey, miss? My friend needs some help.”

Seanna looked up and was promptly captivated by dark eyes, one of which that **_glowed_** maroon even in the fluorescent lighting of the ER. The man was tall and brawny, but devastatingly handsome – and that smirk!

It took a moment for Seanna to register the _friend_ behind him, who was hunched over with the hood of a jacket drawn over his head and clutching at a huge blood stain spreading across his chest.

Before Seanna could say a word, the man’s hand shot out and wrapped around her neck in a warning chokehold. All Seanna could focus on was the red glow coming from the man’s eye.

“Where is the woman?”

Seanna wheezed and scratched futilely at the grip around her neck. Her eyes only widened in horror as the man’s human visage smoked away to reveal a terrifyingly humanoid fomor with sharp teeth and spikes.

The hunched figure growled as bones twisted into impossible angles before its entire form exploded into pure energy that sent everyone in the ER – security guards, nurses, and patients alike – sprawling to the ground in pure terror.

* * *

The elevator dinged and the metal doors slid open at the designated floor.

With one hand holding a cup of cafeteria coffee and the other a thin manila folder, Captain Aodhan’s surprised (but also incredibly weary) face greeted the lot of them when they stepped out into the ward’s main hallway.

After a moment, the older man sighed in resignation. “You know what? I don’t even want to know how you all managed to get up here. C’mon, Tieve’s this way.”

Just as they all reached the room – Tieve’s sleeping form visible through the glass walls, between the veritable line of Royal Police lieutenants keeping watch  – the entire building _shook_ with a fierce rumble. The elevator’s doors screeched open, revealing armor-scaled black talons prying apart the metal with ease.

The Royal Police lieutenants all had their weapons – assault rifles – readied and pointed at the elevator.

With wide eyes, Captain Aodhan dropped his coffee. “Oh Go—”

With a painful-sounding crunch of unstoppable force, the man went flying backwards through the glass walls of another hospital patient’s room.

Lann just barely managed to smash Sylas and Lynn behind him and against the wall to avoid the incomprehensible blur of charging white and blue. Fiona dragged Evie behind a corner out of the line of fire. Karok stood protectively against the door to Tieve’s room, but then ended up flying right through it from the force of _something_. They did not have their equipment – what hospital would allow them to bring their weapons inside, after all?

The Dark Knight staggered out of the elevator shaft, rhythmic clicking emanating from between the jagged teeth.

Kai pulled out .357 Magnum from a concealed holster strapped to his back. He ignored Lynn’s incredulous gasp and took aim at the fomor’s head.

“Fire on three!” The most senior of the Royal Police lieutenants growled out a warning. “THREE!”

The deafening storm of bullets had the teens covering their ears and curling closer towards the wall.

The fomor staggered back a few steps as its black armor plating reformed with every bullet that plunged into its body. Dark energy swirled around its clenched claws, and a facsimile of a weapon formed.

Kai’s hands shook minutely.

The weapon was spiked at every edge and as long as the fomor’s height. It was thick, almost too thick, to be called a greatsword.

The fomor shifted its weight onto its back foot, an action almost casually human, before rushing forward through the hail of gunfire in the blink of an eye with the corrupted greatsword swinging _through_ the Royal Police lieutenants as if they were little more than wet tissue paper.

Viscera and gore splattered the hall’s polished floor and glass walls.

Kai’s .357 Magnum tracked the fomor’s head as it rushed, the armor-piercing rounds shredding through the chitinous plating over what he figured was the face. He rolled away in time to avoid the follow-up swipe of the greatsword and pushed Lynn and Sylas further away from the path of carnage. “MOVE!”

The teens didn’t need a second warning to scramble to their feet and start running over to where Fiona and Evie were grabbing the discarded assault rifles. Checking the rifle magazine for how many bullets were left, Fiona gestured towards the room behind them. “You two, go help Lann with Captain Aodhan.”

A lucky shot sent half of the fomor’s faceplate flying off, revealing a familiar face that sent a jolt of ice-cold horror down Kai’s spine.

“Hu—!” Kai’s back smashed against glass wall, but surprisingly did not break it. His .357 Magnum dropped out of his grip and skidded to a stop by the smashed-in door to Tieve’s room and his hands clutched at the deadly talons gripped tightly around his neck.

Exposed from the broken part of the faceplate, Hurk’s right eye – devoid of recognition and glowing red with the tell-tale sign of an active fomorian emblem – stared right back at him.

The armor covering the fomor’s jaw shattered with a gunshot, revealing that hiding behind the mask of jagged teeth were grotesque black lines of half-healed stitches that forced the mouth closed at all times. The fomor’s head snapped over to the doorway of Tieve’s room.

“I don’t know **_what_** you are, but why don’t you pick on someone your own size?!” Spitting out a mouthful of blood, Karok leaned against the doorway and held up Kai’s Magnum with a growl. A wisp of smoke drifted out of the barrel.

As the mask reformed slowly with the help of dark energy, the Dark Knight released its grip on Kai’s neck. The fomor looked over at Tieve’s room.

An angelic figure in shining white and blue armor, looking as if it hardly touched the floor, held Tieve’s sleeping form in its arms as if she was a baby. The bird-like helmet dipped curtly once, twice.

The black-armored fomor chuckled through the stitches piercing its mouth, the grating noise echoing through the silent hallway, and its greatsword faded away. The fomor took a few steps towards the white and blue-armored one.

“Wait—!” Kai rasped as he pushed himself up to his knees, his hand reaching out.

Blinding white light drowned out everything and anything, bleeding through the limits of human perception.

Everyone still awake and alive on the Ward 3 floor immediately slumped to the floor, unconscious and bleeding profusely from the nose.

The Dark Knight’s head cocked curiously at the man that had reached out for him. After a moment, the creature turned away.

With a crackle of dark energy, the Dark Knight and the Paladin disappeared from the hospital with the Oracle in their possession.


	6. Chapter 6

“Please sir, what are they going to do with me?” Tieve's tear-streaked face and tightly bound wrists did nothing to elicit a response from the darkly-armored creature standing guard next to the door. If it weren't for the slight raise of its chest with every quiet breath it took, the young woman would've thought it a fomorian gargoyle.

With fresh tears building, Tieve closed her eyes and clasped her hands together the best she could with the bindings on. “ _O blessed Morrighan, watch o'er me and keep thy safe from harm._ ”

The creature's head tilted, seemingly curious at the prayers falling from Tieve's lips.

“ _Deliver thyself away from ill omens and grant refuge under Her wings._ ”

The creature took a few steps forward, as if entranced. The corrupted greatsword leaned forgotten against the wall.

“ _No longer shall thy fear terrors stalking the darkness, for Her grace shall return light o'er Her lands to punish the wicked._ ”

Another step. The creature was close enough to touch, now. Tieve opened her eyes and reached out with delicate fingers. “Please...”

After a moment of hesitation, the creature grasped her outstretched fingers, dwarfing her hand in a surprisingly gentle hold.

**PLEASE HELP IT HURTS WHY IS IT SO DARK THEY TOOK MY EYE KILL ME PLEASE I WANT TO GO HOME WHY DID I HURT THEM EVERYTHING HURTS I'M SORRY I'M SORRY I'M SORRY**

“Goddess, I thank you for this blessing.” The tears in Tieve's eyes finally fell, leaving clear trails of wetness down her pale cheeks as she squeezed the clawed fingers reassuringly. “It is good to know that you are still here, Hurk...”

* * *

“I'm going to get her back.” Keaghan strapped on his greatsword with steady hands, ignoring the disapproving scowl on his second-in-command's face.

“Commander-Director, we understand that time is of the essence, but you cannot just charge in blindly by yourself! You cannot possibly cover three different fomorian bases in a single day!” Gwynn did not so much as budge an inch away from her position in front of the door to Keaghan's office.

“Captain Gwynn, I am your superior officer and I am ordering you to stand down!”

“Keaghan! As your _**friend**_ , I am telling you are being irresponsible and reckless, which will more than likely get you killed!”

Three loud bangs on the door cut through the heated argument. In a split second, Keaghan sucked in a breath and composed himself. Gwynn stepped to the side and wrenched open the door.

What seemed to be the entirety of the Crimson Blade Defense Contractors stormed into the room, and a somewhat exasperated Captain Aodhan shoved past the doorway last.

Fiona stepped forward, already equipped in her best gear. She inclined her head respectfully at Captain Gwynn and Director-Commander Keaghan. “Sir, we are here to assist in Tieve's rescue.”

Keaghan glanced over at Captain Aodhan, who was also fully armored and holding his helmet underneath an arm. The older man met Keaghan's incredulous stare with a calm look. “My sources have confirmed the site of the fomor's summoning ritual. My Blades can take care of the other two, Director-Commander. Is that right, soldiers?”

A resounding cry of pride and battle fervor had Keaghan blinking, and then the hard line of his mouth twitched into a slight grin. The man turned to Gwynn. “Captain, will you be providing the backup we need?”

Knowing that she had clearly been outmaneuvered by an entire squadron of idiots, Gwynn stifled her sigh and saluted Keaghan stiffly. “I will rally all available Royal Army Police officers, sir.”


	7. Chapter 7

The Royal Police siege vehicles – nicknamed _Wenshardts_ – were distinctly different from the usual SUVs driven by the CBDC. Instead of eight roomy leather seats with generous air conditioning, the armor-plated vans resembled miniature tanks capable of seating a fully geared critical response unit and ran off a minimum speed of _at least_ 60 mph.

Six of these vehicles were on their way to the Twilight Desert, holding an entire platoon of Royal Police equipped with military surplus with the intent to lay siege to the recently-discovered fomorian base. Right behind them trailed six CBDC vans crammed with as many Crimson Blade mercenaries as possible (including a barely-fit-for-duty Captain Aodhan with Marrec and Ceara glued to his side with as many medical kits they could carry).

Flying roughly 40,000 feet above these vehicles, Director-Commander Keaghan addressed his borrowed group of mercenaries aboard his personal jet, the _Tarasque_.

“Captain Gwynn and her strike teams will enter from the east entrance, while Captain Aodhan's party will begin from the south entrance. Once both Captains light the flare signaling the all-clear from both entrances, we will touch down at the north entrance. Our inside source has noted that the northern parts of the base currently hold an unusual amount of magical energy, and as we know that the fomors are trying to accomplish some kind of ritual, this is most likely to be the area where Tieve is being held.”

“I've got a bad feeling about this. The magic… it doesn't feel right, even all the way up here.” With a frown, Evie rubbed at her temples where she was sitting primly in the cushioned airplane seat next to Karok.

Director-Commander Keaghan sighed as he set aside his pen. The map spanning the Twilight Desert was marked all over with various raiding strategies. “I'm sure most, if not all, of us can feel the strange magical signature surrounding the base. It was only through the assistance of our inside source that we were able to dispel the illusions hiding it away from our radars. We still have a while yet before our involvement. I suggest you all to begin your preparations.”

Without waiting for a reply, the Director-Commander headed for the direction of the cockpit, using the headrests of the airplane seats to steady himself as the plane rumbled through some turbulance.

“I can't believe we're doing this.” Lann nervously fiddled with the strap of his twin swords, _Noblesse_ , which were lying across his lap. Although it's been quite some time since he'd returned to part-timing as a mercenary, as his former injuries no longer immensely hindered his ability to fight or speak normally thanks to his new medication, the man was still hesitant about being on active duty.

“Raiding a fomorian base, or mounting a rescue mission? Both are normal, but those strange... _creatures_ fighting for them are new.” Karok shifted and let his girlfriend sprawl across his lap, one of his huge fingers gently threading through her hair. Standing upright in the aisle next to him was his massive cestus, _Armageddon_.

“We go in, get Tieve, and get out. Provide support if Captain Aodhan needs it.” Fiona adjusted her the strap of her long hammer, _Embrace_ , with a steely look in her eyes. Her expression softened when she glanced over at her fiancé. “We _will_ bring Tieve home. There is no questioning that.”

A few seats away, Kai released and reloaded the magazine to his beloved _Abyss_ for the twentieth time. His face was turned to the window, staring silently out into the passing blur of white clouds and blue skies.

At her friend's taciturn silence, Fiona held back a sigh. Nothing she had said over the past few weeks seemed to breach the storm of seething anger brewing in the man, even more so since the attack at the hospital. He'd withdrawn even from his 'adopted' children, preferring to spend most of his waking hours at the shooting range, leaving herself and the others to help his two teenagers maintain a semblance of a normal life in the absence of both of their guardians.

Fiona glanced around at her group and then turned her gaze towards the window. A never-ending sea of glittering sand below only served to set her nerves on edge.

A dark, fluttering shape overhead cast the cabin of the jet into shadow. Fiona had a split second to react – grabbing the headrest in front of her – before the aircraft shuddered.

Huge, black talons punched through the metal of the jet's sides as if it were paper. Everyone lurched onto the floor of the aisle as the airplane groaned once again. Director-Commander Keaghan shouted something from the cockpit, but his voice was muffled by the screech of metal once more as the talons dug in even deeper. The jet careened to the side, rising and falling almost rhythmically.

Fiona, with Lann shoved protectively underneath her while she scrambled for a handhold, paled when she recognized a great, scaly wing beating the air from through the jet's windows.

They were being hijacked by a Goddess-damned _**dragon**_.

 


End file.
